


My Own Worst Enemy

by thimble



Series: SASO 2017 [20]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, Self-cest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 02:51:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12267381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thimble/pseuds/thimble
Summary: Tatsuya is barely eleven when Himuro makes his first appearance.[himurocest AU drabble dump for saso fills.]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> written for [these](https://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/22249.html?thread=12416233#cmt12416233) prompts.

Tatsuya is barely eleven when Himuro makes his first appearance. It's startling, especially to a child, to suddenly be faced with another him, when he has no prior knowledge of a long-lost twin (though he supposes he wouldn't be so long lost anymore, if Tatsuya knew of him) or anything of the sort. He talks his parents into letting him watch horror movies frequently, and sometimes they would feature doppelgangers, but Himuro doesn't seem to mean any harm. He just accompanies Tatsuya as he's walking home from Taiga's house, silent until he's not. 

 

"Taiga's getting better at basketball," says Himuro, watching Tatsuya kick a can along the sidewalk. They skip the formalities; Tatsuya thought it wasn't needed, and because Himuro is him, he must have thought the same. Tatsuya plays with the can until it skids too far, so much that it'll be a pain to chase after it.

"Yeah. I'm proud of him. He's picking up what I taught him really quick."

"Didn't you have to practice a lot before you could do any of that?"

Tatsuya pauses, noticing that Himuro is wearing the same outfit, but is missing the ring around his neck. "He's just a fast learner."

"If you say so," shrugs Himuro as he walks in the other direction. Tatsuya doesn't follow behind. 

 

* * *

 

When Tatsuya is in junior high, Himuro shows up again. He looks older now, to reflect how much Tatsuya has grown. He has the same hairstyle, the same mole under his eye, but his gaze is harder, his smile sharper. Tatsuya has a good instinct; he thinks he knows what calls Himuro into existence, even if this is only the second time. 

"He beat you. Again," taunts Himuro, but with no trace of surprise in his voice, like he'd expected it, like it was inevitable. "You were apart for a year, and he's already beating you. Don't tell me you didn't see this coming."

Tatsuya's head is bowed, his hands on his hips as he regains his breath from the earlier game. "What do you want me to do about it?"

Himuro steps into his (or their?) personal space, prompting Tatsuya to lift his chin and stare into his own eye. "Stop sulking, for one." Then Himuro points to the chain around his neck. "And take that off, for another."

"I can't do that," says Tatsuya immediately, seeing what Himuro's implying. "It proves we're—"

"Brothers, yeah, I know," says Himuro, dismissive. "And it's weighing both of you down. He won't believe you if you tell him, but you'll see."

He starts to walk away again, and Tatsuya doesn't stop him, his fingertips touching the ring where it rests between his collarbones. 

 

* * *

 

Himuro doesn't reappear again until after Taiga's already gone. It's a rainy day in L.A., and Tatsuya had just yelled all his frustrations at Alex until she left the street court, taking that pitying look in her eyes with her. Tatsuya glad she's gone too. It's just him and his hangups, getting soaked in the downpour, until Himuro arrives and Tatsuya doesn't have to glance up to know that the _I told you so_ would be written all over Himuro's expression. 

"Go away," he says, hoarse, on the verge of catching a cold. He really should get out of this rain, but his legs won't move. "Just leave me alone."

Himuro doesn't, though. This time, Himuro stays, patient as he waits. When Tatsuya finally has the strength to leave, Himuro smiles, pleasantly, the two of them a vulture and a carcass, and follows him home.


	2. a terror in my peripherals

 Tatsuya hears about Himuro before he ever meets him. 

 

* * *

 

His parents knock on his open door, one day, tentative and hesitant, which is strange in itself because even though he'd lie to them, like most kids would with their own, he considers his relationships with them to be better than his peers. Tatsuya is well-behaved when they can see him, and he never lets them see the side that might be considered otherwise. The way they're looking at him now, though, unsettles something inside Tatsuya, like a parasite residing under his skin. Parents should never look so afraid of their children. 

They tell him he didn't give them a choice, and that they should do something about his behavior. Before Tatsuya can ask what he even did, they tell him he's grounded, as if that ever works for teenagers these days. It's the last resort of parents who aren't used to punishing their child; they're out of his room without letting him get a word in edgewise. 

 

* * *

 

At school, he's known as someone well-mannered and kind. Outside of it, he acts the same, but the other kids tend to stay away from him in the streets. "That's him," he overhears someone whose name he doesn't even know, "that's the guy who broke my arm."

Tatsuya curls his fingers into fists, wondering if that's something he's even capable of. 

 

* * *

 

Taiga won't pick up his calls. They were supposed to play one-on-one today, just the the two of them, not for court ownership or pride, but to spend time together after not seeing each other for a year. Tatsuya had even offered to treat Taiga for a burger or two (but any more after that would be on Taiga's wallet.) But Taiga won't pick up his calls and Tatsuya can't shake the nagging thought that since Taiga's already surpassed him, he has no more room for Tatsuya in his life. 

And just when he's about given up — they aren't children anymore, anyway, and he tries to convince himself he's outgrown Taiga too — Taiga shows up at his house, oddly nervous and shy. Tatsuya leads him to his bedroom, closing the door behind them, and turns to face Taiga.

"Any reason you've been avoidi—" 

His words are cut short by Taiga pressing him up against the door, hands gripping Tatsuya's shoulders, mouth insistent over Tatsuya's mouth. It's a clumsy kiss, but an eager one, almost bruising in its intensity. Tatsuya squirms under his touch and Taiga gets the hint after a few seconds, letting him go.

"What— Taiga— what was that about?" He's panting, and his lips feel swollen. Taiga, on the other hand, just looks confused.

"But you were the one who— the other day you—" Comical, the way they keep stammering over their sentences like they're strangers. Maybe that's what a year apart had done to them. Tatsuya tries to smile, like maybe that could fix it. 

"Slow down, Taiga. What did I do the other day?"

"You mean you don't—" Taiga's expression falls, his posture slumps, and his voice goes small and quiet. "I get it, Tatsuya." His cheeks are burning when he gently shoves Tatsuya to the side so he could get past the door, jogging down the set of stairs beside Tatsuya's room before Tatsuya could call after him, or do anything at all. 

When Tatsuya turns around, facing his full-length mirror, he's wearing Taiga's confusion from earlier. He'd somewhat accepted the wary glances, the rumors, the ruined reputation, but it's a blow to have whatever it is affect his friendship with Taiga. 

He frowns at his reflection, and his reflection smiles back before it climbs out of the glass, made of flesh and bone. Tatsuya keeps his features in a poker face as the other him — the one he'll call Himuro — crosses the distance between them, then tilts Tatsuya's chin up with familiar fingertips.

"Surprised? Of course you are, though you won't show it."

Tatsuya only narrows his eyes. He has his suspicions, but he doesn't need Himuro's confirmation to know they're true. It's less like puzzle pieces slotting into place than it is like finally giving a name to a previously unidentified fear. 

"What do you want? What are you getting out of this?"

Himuro's smile doesn't waver; it remains a steady curve on his lips, and Tatsuya imagines this must've been the way he'd smiled at Taiga the other day when—

"Nothing," says Himuro, pushing Tatsuya's bangs from his eyes. His touch doesn't feel invasive, because Tatsuya can't feel it at all. "I want absolutely nothing. Unlike you."

Tatsuya's spine stiffens at the accusation. "Excuse me?"

"You wanted your parents off your case, so I dealt with it. You wanted to punch assholes in the face, so I did it for you. You wanted Taiga, so I got him. Not that it matters anymore," sighs Himuro, voice full of disappointment. "Since you blew it. After all my hard work."

It's a lot to take in all at once. Tatsuya stares at Himuro, thinking of him getting into Taiga's space, tugging him down by the chain, but then Himuro starts to laugh. 

"Incredible," he says, ruffling Tatsuya's hair. "You're jealous of yourself. That's a new one."

"I don't need you." Tatsuya's teeth are gritted, and his fists are curled at his sides; he wonders if he'll feel it too when he connects it to Himuro's cheekbones. 

"Go on, try it," says Himuro, as if reading his mind. "I'll only leave when you stop being a fucking coward, but that'll never happen." 

"I don't need you," repeats Tatsuya, swinging his fists and hitting—hitting something solid, sharp. Pieces of his full-length mirror litter the floor, while the rest of it wears a spiderweb crack on its surface. His knuckles, he realizes, are bleeding.

 

* * *

 

Tatsuya meets Himuro again and again, as if to make up for all the times they've missed each other. He'd look at his reflection and there Himuro would be, everpresent, teeth bared and red.


	3. patience is your virtue

It doesn't happen often; only when it gets really bad, and so far, thankfully, only at night. He could lie and pretend (to who? himself? no one else knows his secret and he'll die trying to keep it hidden) that he doesn't know why it happens, but there's only his own heart to fool and maybe doing that is what prompted this in the first place. He'd guess that this doesn't happen to just anyone, or anyone he knows — if it did then what cause would he have to feel special at all? And he won't pretend that there's nothing good about it, either, this ability that no one else seems to have, but if it was all good then he wouldn't be so damn embarrassed about being found out.

He wouldn't have startled so much when he woke up a little past midnight to someone else under his sheets (thank god, too, that he wasn't assigned a roommate.) It's forbidden, but not uncommon, for students to take each other to bed, but Tatsuya had never done that before and he wasn't not sure why he would've started. Except this isn't another student at all — the other person turned and to Tatsuya it was like looking in a mirror, even in the lowered lighting and the haze of sleep in his eyes.

"What are you looking at?" Himuro, almost him but not quite, had said. There was too much hostility in his voice, just as all of Tatsuya's seemed to have seeped out of him. He felt nothing but sympathy and affection for this other self, bristling with anger that had nowhere to go. Tatsuya, wordlessly, reached for him and brought their mouths together, not minding when Himuro bit his lips bloody. Himuro had pinned him to the bed, wrists held above him, and rutted against his thigh until they were both sighing and shuddering. Tatsuya had been about to remark about having two sets of underwear to toss in the wash the next morning, but then the air above him was empty, and Himuro was nowhere to be found. In his stead was the weight that seemed to have returned to Tatsuya's chest, his anger nestled back under his ribs like a beast in hibernation.

It doesn't happen often, but he's gotten pretty adept at telling when it might. When he can't get his shots right in practice, when the ring feels particularly heavy hanging from his throat, or when Atsushi brings up one of his friends (like the monsters under Tatsuya's bed.) The day would go by normally, but then night would fall and his fists would curl and Himuro would peel himself free from Tatsuya's core, fury and frustration concentrated into flesh.

There's only one way to reconcile them again, or so Tatsuya's found. There's always a kiss and there are always bruises; there's always a climax but never a goodbye. Tatsuya always wakes up alone, wondering when Himuro would come again.

It's not a conventional way to solve his issues, and is probably at least a little unhealthy, but in the morning Tatsuya would touch his fingertips to his swollen lips, torn in two about whether or not he wants something bad to happen today.


End file.
